


bruised knuckles, soft hearts

by xxpaynoxx



Series: My Bellarke Drabbles [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Protective Bellamy, this mademe so happy om g
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4120042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxpaynoxx/pseuds/xxpaynoxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“i had to be ur fake boyfriend/girlfriend bc some creep was hitting on you and it was making you uncomfortable and now i have busted knuckles and a cut lip but hey are u okay” au</p>
            </blockquote>





	bruised knuckles, soft hearts

**Author's Note:**

> HA this is trash and super cheesy and I hope you like it a lot because i couldn't stop grinning like an idiot while i was writing (also protective!bellamy is my weakness)

Bellamy did _not_ like how Finn Collins was hitting on the cute blonde at the bar.

He’d been staring at the girl for hours, exchanging glances and short winks as she sipped her glass of whiskey (probably, since it was amber in color and she kept coughing afterwards), and then Finn _fucking_ Collins had to show up and ruin it.

Miller, one of Bellamy’s buddies, nudged him. “Hey, check it out. Finn’s back in town,” he whispered, taking a swig from his beer bottle as the two watched Finn try and talk the other blonde girl up. Bellamy could feel the anger rising up in his chest and Finn started looking exasperated when the blonde wasn’t reciprocating. in fact, she seemed to be _toying_ with him.

“If he puts his hands on her, I’m getting up,” Bellamy growled, taking a long gulp from his beer bottle. Miller giggled like a middle school tween girl, and Bellamy turned to him to ask what the _hell_ was wrong with his friend when Miller paled.

Bellamy looked over and saw Finn’s hand on the girl’s arm, and she looked _terrified_.

He slammed his beer bottle down and made his way through the crowd, arriving quickly in front of Finn and the blonde. The girl looked relieved to see him, but Finn looked defensive. “Hey, Bellamy,” he began, trying to play nice, but his voice faltered as Bellamy reached over and swung an arm around the girl, pulling her to his chest.

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked, planting a smile on his face. Finn let go of the girl, and she visibly relaxed, though was still shaking slightly. “You okay?” he whispered in her ear, and she nodded slightly as Finn opened his dumb mouth. “Oh, nothing, I was just...talking to Clarke,” Finn said nonchalantly, resting one of his arms on the bar. Bellamy narrowed his eyes.

"Finn Collins, I doubt that that is what you were doing,” he said, his tone dripping with poison. Finn gulped, worry clear on his face, and Bellamy knew the kid was going to snap. “Well, what business is it of _yours_ , anyway?” he sneered, taking a sip of his drink.

Bellamy paused for a second, and then planted a kiss on Clarke’s head.

Jesus, she smelled like strawberries, but Bellamy tried not to think about that and focused on beating the shit out of Finn with his words. “Clarke’s my _girlfriend_ , Finn,” he said plainly, and Finn balked. “ _What_? She didn’t mention that,” he said loudly, and Bellamy saw the bartender pause at the corner of his eye, staring down the two of them.

“That’s because you never gave me a chance to,” Clarke said, and Bellamy was surprised by the level of annoyance that came through her voice. Finn glared at her. “I think you’re making this up,” he spat, reaching for Clarke again.

Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was the three beers in Bellamy’s system, but whatever it was, it caused his fist to smash into Finn's face, making him keel over on the floor, clutching his nose and cursing loudly.

At this point, all heads were facing them, and Bellamy gulped. Finn got up and punched him right in the face, and Bellamy stumbled back, using the bar to steady himself. He felt blood on his lip, and he saw purple bruises forming on his knuckles.

Miller was at his side in mere seconds, beckoning to Clarke and Bellamy. “Alright, break it up, jackass,” Miller said to Finn, who made another move towards Bellamy with his fist raised when the bartender, who was at least six-two with tattoos all over his arms came behind him and rested his hand on Finn’s fist.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” he said sternly, and that’s the last Bellamy saw of Finn at the bar as he turned to get the hell out of there.

**\---**

It was quiet between the three people as they trudged along the sidewalk. Miller had produced a napkin that read “Bud Light” on it (probably from the Applebee’s they went to for dinner), and Bellamy was currently holding it over his split lip. Clarke was silent, save for her heels clicking on the sidewalk. Her hands were stuffed into her leather jacket.

“Hey, thank you.”

Bellamy looked down at Clarke, who had an _adorable_ apologetic face on. He waved it off, dabbing at his lip and stuffing the napkin in his coat pocket when he realized it wasn’t bleeding anymore. “‘S fine,” he muttered, and Clarke sighed.

“No, I really mean it. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come over and done that,” she said, her voice trailing off as she stared off into the city lights. Bellamy watched the lights pass through her big blue eyes, and it was like watching a galaxy revolve in a telescope.

Breathtaking.

“Who was he, anyway?” Clarke asked. Miller scoffed. “Finn Collins? He used to go to our college, but he transferred across town. Complete douchebag. Rumor has it he slept with three girls over the course of a six-month period, _during which_ he had a long-distance relationship with this girl from another state,” Miller explained.

Bellamy was quiet throughout the whole explanation, and when Miller was done, he rested his hand on Clarke’s shoulder, trying to block out the electric current that was running through his hand. “Are you _sure_ you’re okay?” he asked, staring into Clarke’s eyes.

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Yes,” she said, smirking. “And thank you,” she added, her tone a tad more sentimental. Bellamy looked into her eyes for a few more moments and then broke away, because _damn_ , they were an ocean he’d like to go drown in.

**\---**

It turned out that Clarke lived in the same apartment complex as Bellamy and Miller, just three doors down. Miller went inside and left the latch off, and Bellamy rested his arm on the doorframe. “Hey, I’m sorry about that whole fake-boyfriend act. It was kind of dumb,” he said softly, becoming extremely interested in the woodwork underneath his feet and rubbing the back of his neck.

Clarke placed her hand on Bellamy’s shoulder, and he looked up to meet her eyes. “No, it’s fine. It’s okay, I kind of liked it,” she said, blushing furiously. Bellamy’s mouth twitched into a smile, and tapped his fingers on the doorframe. “How about I make it up to you? Can you do coffee tomorrow afternoon, say, three?” he asked.

Clarke nodded, her eyes sparkling as she handed her his number on a scrap piece of paper and walked off, unlocking her door and shooting a wink at Bellamy before going inside and shutting the door.

Bellamy couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the night, and even Miller’s dumb remarks about Finn Collins’s douchery didn’t bring him down.

 


End file.
